Have A Little Faith
by DeanBean
Summary: What if John had answered to Sam’s message after Dean got electrocuted? *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

Have a little Faith

Summary: What if John had answered to Sam's message after Dean got electrocuted?

Rating: T (swearing, and maybe a little bit o' violence)

Disclaimer: The last time I checked my birth certificate didn't say Erik Kripke

* * *

Dean walked down the steps that led to the basement of the old abandoned warehouse. Dean and Sam had been hunting a Raw Head for the past couple of days; a couple of children had gone missing and after interviewing most of the little town they had located the missing children to be in this old abandoned houses' basement, and also, the location of the Raw Head. Dean held the tazer gun steady in his right hand while he held the flashlight over the gun in his left hand as he walked down the wooden steps. Sam followed him in an almost identical fashion. When both brothers made it to the bottom they walked towards a wardrobe where they heard a soft sound coming. Dean stood facing the wardrobe and indicated for Sam to open it; it revealed two small children, one boy and one girl.

"Sam you get the kids outa here, I'm go do a quick sweep" Sam nodded his head at Dean and looked him in the eye giving Dean the 'don't-do-anything-stupid' look. Dean nodded his head and watched as Sam brought the two frightened children to safety.

Dean walked around the other side of the basement; his movements were fast and precise, his gun was kept poised at a ninety-degree angle, the beam of light aiding his eyes in the dark recess of the gloomy and cold basement. Dean was ready to go back up stairs and tell Sam that the Raw Head was no where in sight when he felt his body being propelled forward. He didn't feel the pain in his body when it made contact with the hard ground, he didn't feel the cold water soaking into his jeans as he lay in a pool of frigid water, nor did he feel the water on his hands as he grappled for the tazer gun. Dean's hunter instincts took over as he saw the Raw Head approach him, he held the gun and pulled the trigger and watched as it shot the Raw Head in the centre of the chest. He did feel the pain as ten thousand volts of electricity shot through his legs, up through his torso, and danced around his head before repeating this pattern again, making his body go rigid and his screams die in his throat before they could complete their passage past his lips. He did feel the cold water as it soaked into his body as he slumped further onto the hard concrete floor. He did feel as his lungs screamed in protest to the air that his body was screaming for, and the beating of his heart growing weaker as his eyes fell shut. His body's last sensation was one of numbness as he fell unconscious from the pain and inflictions that ravished throughout his body, mind and soul.

* * *

Sam brought the two frightened children up the stairs and over to the Impala where he opened the back door and put them inside as they clung to each other in fear, tear stains down their cheeks causing rivers where the dirt was wiped away, and the innocent tears of a child now lay. Sam kneeled down so that he was no longer looming over the two children, knowing that his 6'5" frame could scare even a grown man, let alone two little kids. He quickly put the tazer into the front seat of the Impala before talking to the two children.

"Hey, my names Sam, what your names?" Sam asked and watched as the little children look at each other before the girl, which looked to be the older of the two, spoke,

"My names Karen and this is my little brother Todd" she said as she held Todd's hand a little bit tighter. Sam gave Karen and Todd a reassuring smile before speaking,

"I have to go back inside and check on my brother, Dean; do you think you will be okay for a couple of minutes?" Sam asked and was pleased when he saw Karen nod her head, "Okay, just call if you need anything" he said before getting back from his kneeling position and back to his full height.

Sam walked down the steps again and was about to call for Dean when he saw a slumped form in the far corner of the basement. Sam bounded down the remaining steps and ran over to where Dean lay. Sam crouched beside his brother and put a shaky hand to his throat feeling for a pulse; it was weak. What the hell had happened? Sam quickly glanced behind himself and saw the Raw Head in a crumpled mess, dead, a few feet from where Dean lay. Sam quickly grabbed his cell phone and dialled '911', all the while keeping his fingers pressed to Dean's neck and feeling as the thump came a bit slower each time; _Dean was dying_. Sam quickly put one arm around Dean's shoulders and another around his knees before lifting him off of the hard floor and out of the cold water that he had been lying in; Dean's head lolled about and Sam had to manure him so that it was resting against Sam's shoulder. Sam was glad now that he had the advantage of 5" in height and a good few pounds more than his brother as he lifted him with ease and quickly took the steps two at a time.

As Sam waited for the ambulance to arrive he laid Dean down on the dirt lane outside of the abandoned warehouse and lifted Dean's head so that it was resting against Sam's legs, and had draped his jacket across his torso to held ward off the chills that were already starting to wrack his brother body.

Sam was sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting for news on Dean. When the ambulance arrived the police had arrived also because a house near the abandoned warehouse had called about a disturbance, and Sam had answered all of the necessary questions, _Yes he and his brother had found the two young children, Yes they were driving by and heard a noise and thought it be best to check it out, and finally Yes, that is how his brother had injured himself, Yes it probably was a fault in the electricity officer._ Sam had spent the last three hours thinking about what had happened that night. He had drew the conclusions that, from the close proximity of the Raw Head, Dean had shot it and had accidentally got himself electrocuted because of the huge pool of water that Sam had found him slumped in. Sam still couldn't get the image of Dean slumped like that out of his mind; the way he was so still, his features so lax. Dean was never that still, even when he was sleeping he always moved about.

Sam was going to go and get another cup of coffee when he saw Dean's doctor walking towards him, he was a dark man with little hair on his head and a stern and professional look on his face. Sam quickly got to his feet and went and meet Dr. Carson halfway.

"Doctor, have you got any news on my brother?" Sam asked, his voice wavering slightly as the image flashed in his mind again, making him wonder _how can it be okay_, yet praying that it was at the same time.

"Yes I do. Your brother's body suffered ten thousand volts of electricity coursing through it. Your brother's heart it's, damaged" Dr. Carson said, his voice laced with sorrow and regret for both the young man who had suffered greatly and his brother. Sam felt tears spring to his eyes.

"What do you mean, damaged?" Sam's voice was a mere whisper as his eyes filled with tears as the doctors words filled up a space in his chest and made it ache.

"Dean suffered a heart attack, a pretty massive one. All we can do now is make sure that he is comfortable and rests" Dr. Carson said while giving Sam a sympathetic look as some of the tears spilled over his eyes and ran down his cheeks, "I give him a couple of weeks, a month at the most. I am truly sorry, but, we can't work miracles" Dr. Carson gave Sam's arm a squeeze,

"I have to go see my brother" Sam said before walking past the doctor and towards Dean's room.

* * *

Dean was laying on the hospital bed with the back raised slightly as he flicked through the various channels on the small television in front of him. Sam walked over to his brother after taking a deep breath and making a last swipe at his face to get rid of the tears that lay there; he had to be strong for Dean. Sam walked over to Dean's bedside and pulled over the hard plastic chair and sat close by his brothers' bed. Dean still had his attention focused on the television and had yet to look at Sam and from where Sam was sitting he could already see the effects that the accident were taking on Dean's body; his skin was extremely pale and there where dark circles under his eyes making his face appear even paler, if that was even possible. Sam couldn't stop the feeling of how all of this was wrong as he looked at Dean, wearing the standard green cloth gown, and the blackest pulled close to his chest. Sam noticed the I.V attached to his brothers' left hand, and the various leads that were connected to the heart monitor, the sound of his brothers' heart beat bleeping throughout the room; Sam could help but think that in a few weeks that sound would cease to exist, and so would his brother…Sam was torn from his thoughts by the sound of Dean's voice speaking to him,

"Seriously, have you ever watched day-time TV?" Dean asked in a sarcastic voice as he changed the channel again, still not looking at Sam, "oh, that fabric softener teddy, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down" Dean said, and Sam noticed how even it seemed weak and scratchy compared to his usual jokey and confident tone.

"I spoke to your doctor" Sam said and he watched as Dean turned the television off and placed the remote beside himself and for the first time since Sam entered the room, turned to face his brother.

"Yeah, well," Dean paused for a second and forced a small smile to grace his lips, "looks like your gonna be leaving town without me Sammy" and Sam could see how hard Dean was fighting to keep up pretences for Sam's sake,

"What!?" Sam couldn't believe what Dean had just said to him, "I'm not leaving you here Dean" Sam said with a hint of anger in his voice at what Dean was suggesting,

"Yes. And if you hurt my car I swear I'll hunt your ass" Dean said and Sam could see that the usual hint of humour was missing, but the statement still made tears spring to Sam's eyes,

"That's not funny" said fixed Dean with a look bordering on horror,

"It was a little…" Dean said and when he saw how Sam's eyes were filled with tears and how desperate he looked the smile dropped form his face, "look Sam, this is a dangerous gig, and I guess I just drew the short straw. I'm gonna die and there is nothin' you can do to stop it" Sam noticed how Dean's face was saddened and as he lay there in that hospital bed, _dying_, he was still trying to reassure Sam by telling him, not with words but with the look in his eyes, that it was not his fault. Sam didn't pay any attention to what Dean said as he grabbed a hold of his right hand and gave it a squeeze,

"Watch me"

Sam sat on his bed in the motel room that he had been staying in with Dean before this whole mess happened. He sat with several pages strewn about him, and the laptop open, all giving various information on heart problems. Sam had left the hospital two days ago after he had informed Dean that he was not to let him die and had went back to the motel to research all that he could. Sam had went to the hospital yesterday to sit with Dean for most of the day before the doctors told him he had to leave, that the visiting hour were over. Sam had noticed how in even a day Dean seemed to be worse, how weak he had looked lying in the hospital bed, fighting for his life as his body slowly but surely shut down.

Sam now sat with his phone in his grasp as he stared down at the number across the screen of his phone before pressing the dial button. He waiting for a few moments before hearing the usual message telling the caller to phone Dean if they needed help, _but who do I call when Dean needs help?,_ Sam thought with conviction before he started his message,

"Hey Dad, I was phoning because, um…" Sam felt the tears begin to pull in his eyes, "Dean is hurt, and well, the doctors say there's nothing they can do," Sam had to bite back the sob, knowing that he wouldn't be able to finish the message, "So, um, if you could call me, I need your help, Dean needs your help." Sam then proceeded to tell his Dad their whereabouts before hanging up. Sam put the phone down on the bed and took a deep breath to calm himself down. He was about to go through the information that he had found again when there was a knock at the door.

Sam got to his feet and walked towards the door, wondering who it could be. Sam placed his hand on the door and when he opened it he couldn't have been more surprised at who he seen there,

"Dean!" Sam couldn't believe his eyes as he looked at Dean standing outside of their motel rooms' door; okay, maybe more like leaning against the door was more accurate. Sam looked at his brother still in shock that he was there, his face was still extremely pale, the freckles that adorned his face standing out alarmingly, and giving his face a more youthful look, and that somehow made the whole situation harder than it already was; Dean was twenty-six years old, he should have a few more decades left at the very least, not a few more weeks.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked as he moved to let Dean enter the room, watching as Dean leaned heavily on the dresser that was situated beside the door. Sam couldn't keep the small smile that was gracing his lips; even though the situation was horrendous he was glad that Dean would be with him and not stuck in a hospital somewhere.

"Hey, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot" Dean said, although the usual humour was not there, and his sentence came out breathy, as if walking the short distance into the room and speaking was tiring him already. Sam took hold of Dean's arm and led him over to the opposite bed that all of his stuff was sitting on and helped Dean to sit down and get more comfortable; he knew that Dean was in pain from the way his moved; his movements were slow and his body tense against the pain coursing through his abused body.

"What's all this?" Dean asked as he glanced over at the various pages spread about Sam's bed.

"I told you; I'm gonna help you" Sam said as he sat down on his bed opposite Dean, watching as Dean's eyes trailed over the pages before meeting Sam' eyes again,

"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are ya'?" Dean said with a small smile, trying to do the Dean thing and laugh away a difficult situation. Sam knew that this was his defence mechanism and he decided to play along just this once; seeing how the circumstances permitted his brother getting a break,

"I'm not gonna let ya' die, _period_" Sam said and smiled a little when he saw the small smile and shake of the head that Dean sent him.

* * *

Dean was lying on top of his motel bed. He was wearing a pair of dark denim jean; about the only pair he had that weren't full of little holes, a black t-shirt, a dark navy zip-up; zipped up the whole way, and a pair of white sports soaks on his feet, _and he was still cold!_ Of course he wouldn't admit this to Sam, it would only worry him further, but he figured that Sam had already guessed, which wasn't hard considering the shivers that ran havoc throughout Dean's body,

Sam glanced over at Dean and couldn't **not** notice how Dean's body was shivering horribly, although the room was not that cold. Sam knew that Dean would never admit anything which he would consider to be a weakness so he decided that he would have to make it look like he was cold, knowing that Dean would do anything for his little brother,

"Hey it's kinda cold in here, mind if I turn the heating up?" Sam as he looked over at Dean who was lying on top of his bed flicking through an old magazine that had been in the motel room, although Sam suspected that he wasn't reading it, by the way his eyes were dropped, showing just how tired he actually was,

"No, but if your feelin' a little nippy Sammy, I don't mind" Dean said lacing his words with sarcasm although he was feeling grateful, he smiled knowing what his brother was doing; Sam would need to be blind not to see the shivers that were wracking Dean's body, he was pretending that it was him that was cold so that Dean wouldn't feel bad and Dean knew from the little things like that, that Sam loved him, and Dean loved him too.

It was a few hours later and Dean was lying down on the bed flicking through the magazine for about the hundredth time, yet, if you were to ask him what any article in the magazine was about, he would have a clue. He flicked through a few more pages, keeping up the image that he was fine, and was just casually lying about and reading a magazine; that he wasn't exhausted and fighting to keep his eyes from dropping shut at any given moment, that he wasn't just keeping up this whole facade so that he wouldn't appear weak in front of his brother. Sam, of course, had noticed this behaviour in Dean and was about to tell him that he should seriously get some sleep there was a knocking at the door that stopped him from doing so.

Sam cast a glance over at Dean who had pulled himself up so that he was lying propped up against the pillows, and gave Sam a small shrug, as in _'don't look at me, I don't know who the hell it is'_ and nodded his head in the direction in the door as if telling Sam to open it. Sam walked over to the door and cast one final glance at his brother before pulling the door open, he looked at the face of the person on the other side of the door, and if he thought that he had been shocked earlier when Dean came to the door, then he better think again, as he opened the door further, unable to find the words to say for a few moments, and when he did, it came out in a shocked whisper,

"_Dad"_

* * *

Okay, so that was Chapter One,

please Review and tell me what you think...the good, the bad, and the ugly :D


	2. Chapter 2

Have a little Faith

Summary: What if John had answered to Sam's message after Dean got electrocuted?

Rating: T (swearing, and maybe a little bit o' violence)

Disclaimer: The last time I checked my birth certificate didn't say Erik Kripke

* * *

"_Dad"_

John Winchester had gotten Sam's phone call a few hours ago and to say that it had panicked and scared him would be an understatement. He had listened to the message several times, a lump forming in his throat each time Sam' voice cracked and became choked up with emotion. From the moment he had heard Sam's message until the moment Sam opened the door to the motel room John had been thinking the same thought; _what could have possibly done this to my boy, my Dean_. So now he stood looking Sam in the eyes for the first time in two years, silently asking for forgiveness, or even a short reprise, and smiles when he see's Sam smile at him,

"Hey Sammy, it's been a long time" John says and watches as Sam moved to let John enter the motel room, while speaking,

"Too long"

John looked over at the bed in the corner of the room and watched as Dean pushed himself up so that he was sitting, his feet touching the ground. John took in Dean's pale appearance, and the way the small movement of getting into a sitting position were taxing on his body. He walked over to where did was Dean was sitting and kneeled down in front of him, resting his hands on Dean's knees,

"Hey Dean" John said, and he noticed that Dean hadn't raised his eyes to look at him since he had entered the motel room. A few seconds after John had spoken Dean raised his head so that he could look up at John. John had to suppress the gasp that wanted to leave his lips that were marred into a frown at his son's appearance; Dean's eyes were slightly glazed which showed his obvious exhaustion, and he also had deep purple bags under his eyes, the colour pronounced by his pale features, and John also saw the freckles that adorned Dean's face, and across his nose were stark and gave him a youthful appearance.

"Hey Dad" Dean croaked out, his voice rough and sore. John felt sadness and guilt gnaw away at him as he gave Dean's knees a squeeze. John gave a smile, although it was small and did not reach his eyes, and looked at Dean and Sam before speaking,

"So, do ya wanna tell me what's going on" John said, and both his boys knew it was not a question, _it was an order…_

* * *

It was about two hours later when Sam and Dean had finished explaining what had happened and how Dean now had a month left or else he would…John had listened intently as Sam had described everything that had happened; from how they came about the Raw Head and why they were down in the basement, up until the point where John had come knocking on their motel room door. While Sam had been telling John how he had found Dean in the basement he had kept watch on Dean out of the corner of his eye, and noted how he had kept his head down and stared at his hands that were rested in his lap. John glanced over at his eldest son again and took into account the dark circles underneath his half-lidded eyes, and the way that he was leaning against the headboard of the bed with what seemed to be, all of his remaining strength, so that he could sit upright with one foot laying on the bed and the other sock clad foot resting on the badly carpeted floor. John got up from his spot at the table where he had been reading pages on how they could help Dean, and fix this, so that they could carry on with their lives. John pushed himself up out of his chair with his hands on his legs and straightened out the muscles in his back, earning himself a glance from Sam who had been sitting on his own bed searching frantically yet scrutinizingly through a surplus amount of leaflets and print outs, when the bones give a crack as the air was pushed out from the stiff bones. John walked over to were Dean was staring at the same magazine he had been since their conversation had ended; John knew that Dean wasn't reading it by the way his eyes stared straight at the page, not moving to read the printed words that lined the crumpled and overused pages. Another sign that Dean was more than halfway to La-La Land, John noted with trepidation, was when Dean did not notice his fathers presence beside him as John stood staring down at his son for a few agonizing moments waiting anxiously to get a reaction from his son. He let out a small sigh; which sadly also went unnoticed, and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, guilt and sadness tying knots in his stomach at the flinch that traveled through Dean's body, before he raised his eyes to his father's concerned ones,

"Oh, hey Dad" Dean said, as he plastered on one of his million dollar smiles to try and convince everybody that he was fine, although the smile did not reach his eyes.

"Hey Ace; I think it's time to hit the hay" John said as he lifted the magazine from Dean's hands and set in on the chipped bedside table. Dean give his father a look that showed that he was getting pissed off at the way they were treating him, and he was just about to tell his father that he was fine, that he didn't want to go to bed when a huge yawn escaped before he could stop it. John just gave Dean a smile and give his shoulder a small squeeze, unable to suppress the small laugh that escaped his lips at Dean's irritated and shocked expression; angry that he couldn't control his body when he needed to the most.

"Come on Deano" John said as he lifted Dean's other foot onto the bed and watched at Dean gave up and lifted his hips up off of the bed as he pulled down the sheets so that he could get under the covers. Dean shuffled down so that his head was lying on the pillow and so that he back was no longer resting against it. He couldn't stop the way such a simple movement was making him feel even more exhausted than he had been previously and he let out a sigh in frustration, that once again ended up more like a yawn, John sat down on the edge of the bed beside Dean's legs,

"Get some sleep kiddo" John said and watched as Dean let his eyes slide closed and suddenly he heard Sam speak,

"Oh, I almost forgot; Dean you have to take your pills" Sam said as he bounded off of his bed and walked over to the bag that contained the bottles of pills that the doctor had prescribed to Dean to make him more comfortable. Sam placed the sought after pills into his open palm before walking over to the small motel rooms sink.

Dean opened his left eye so that it was only a small slit and looked over to where Sam was filling a glass with water before walking towards Dean with three pills in his palm,

"What the hell Sammy…you take 'em" Dean said in a slightly slurred voice as he was only inches away from the warm grasp of sleep. Sam let out a small smile before extending his arm out for Dean to take the offered glass of water. Dean knew there was no way that he would be able to drink the water while he was laying down so he started to push himself up with his arms and couldn't stop the outburst when John reached across and tried to help ease him up,

"I'm fine, I don't need your help!" he shouted at his father before looking at John, his expression softening and an apologetic look in his eyes. John nodded his head slightly to show that he understood before he put a hand on Dean's shoulder to keep him steady while he took the glass from Sam's waiting hands and took a small sip before taking the three pills and popping them into his mouth at once, followed by a long gulp of water. Dean handed the glass back to Sam and let himself fall back onto the bed, not fighting the way his eyes refused to stay opened any longer, letting the darkness take hold, and to be sweep away to the recess of his mind where reality and a month left to live was miles and miles away, and dreams of a happier life took hold.

John sat on the edge of Dean's bed and watched as his eyes slipped closed and his breathing began to even out as he fell into, what John hoped would be, a peaceful sleep. John reached out his hand and ran it through Dean's short, soft hair, as he looked down at his son emotions felt like they were going to engulf him and swallow him whole, as tears began to mist his eyes. He quickly blinked them back while he moved his hand so that it was rested against Dean's heart, feeling the rhythmic beat that he prayed would never stop. He took a deep breath, _I have to be the strong one, I can't let my two boys see me like this, especially Dean,_ John thought with determination. He glanced across at the other bed and saw that Sam was watching as his brother slept, before he raised his eyes to his father and gave him a small smile, yet his eyes were saddened, but underneath the sad and guilt-ridden exterior, _cause Lord I know Sam blames himself,_ John could see the determination shining through, and John would be damned if he was the person that would break that determination thought John, before John carefully got up and went back to the table to research some more.

* * *

It was a few hours later and Sam was now splayed out on his motel bed, various sheets around him, each having been scrutinized and double-checked before Sam finally succumbed to the awaiting arms of sleep. John lifted the afghan that resided at the bottom of Sam's bed and threw it over him, knowing that if he tried to get him under the covers of the bed he would inevitably wake him up, and he knew that Sam hadn't been sleeping much since Dean had been in hospital, and he wanted to let him get all of the rest that he tired body could grasp at. John walked over to Dean's bed and saw that his boy hadn't really moved much, which was unusual since Dean was always moving, even in his sleep. Dean was now lying on his side facing inwards. John walked to the opposite side of the bed that Dean was lying on and lifted up the covers so that he could climb in; Dean let out a small groan of disapproval as the cold air gushed into the warm cocoon that he had created from the sheets pulled up to his shoulder, when John had lifted up the sheets. John quickly climbed in and lay back against the pillows; the room was enveloped in darkness yet Johns many years of hunting had heightened his eyes to the dark and he could make out the features of his eldest's face; his brows pulled together in a frown, his face pale, and although John could not see them now he knew the freckles would be dancing across his sons nose and cheeks, his mouth parted as soft breaths escaped into the night air, filling the room with the soft and calming sound that John hoped never faded. John lay down and settled himself into a comfortable position facing outwards on the bed, with his shotgun in easy reach, cautious of any dangers that he knew lurked in the dark recess of the night.

* * *

It was nearly four in the morning when John began to stir. Something wasn't right. He opened his eyes cautiously and was about to reach for his shotgun that lay in easy reach when a thin sliver of light caught his eye. He carefully swung his legs over the bed and glanced behind him and his assumptions were confirmed when he noticed the absence of Dean who should have been deep asleep after the exhausting day he had. John cast a wary glance at Sam to make sure that he was indeed there and that he was still in the lulls of sleep before he pushed himself quietly to his feet and walked stealthily over to the chipped and wooden bathroom door; pushing it open to reveal a sight that made his heart swell and ache. Dean was leaning against the tub that was beside the toilet in the small bathroom. He had his knees drawn to his chest and his arms folded across them. He rested his forehead against his arms and from where John was standing he could see that Dean was taking deep breaths, his entire form trembling from the task of being sick. John walked over and kneeled beside Dean and raised his hand, cupping the back of his neck, and kneading the tense muscles there. John was about to ask Dean was he okay when suddenly Dean shot forward, his arms encircling the bowl as he leaned over the toilet again in as many minutes, as dry heaves began to choke his body. John was shocked by the sudden movement for a few moments before he gathered his bearing and reached a hand out and started to rub calming circles of Dean back with his hand.

"Shh…its okay, you're okay…" John whispered in a soft tone matching his gentle touch on his sons abused body,

Dean was still heaving into the toilet when all of his remaining energy began to ebb away from his body, leaving his body slumping downwards before John wrapped his arm around his waist and lifted the smaller man so that he was in a more comfortable position.

"You're alright, shh…you're okay…" John continued his mantra as his boy suffered in his arms, as he was unable to do anything to stop it, his only consolation was the he could offer some comfort. John rubbed his hand along Dean's back, unable to stop the grimace on his face as he felt Dean's spine and ribs through the thin material of his clothes; sure Dean was muscled but he was thin also, and the few days of having no appetite were already starting to show on his body,

After a few more moments of painful retching and dry heaves Dean's body slumped further back into John's chest, his breath coming out in gasps. John maneuvered Dean so that he was leaning against the tiled wall of the small bathroom. Dean's head lolled to the side and he let his cheek rest against the cold tiles of the bathroom, letting the cool feel sink into his skin and freeze his nerve endings; the touch made his cheek burn from the frigid sensation but he welcomed it, any feeling of any kind he welcomed, because feeling meant that he was living, and living meant that Sammy and Dad weren't alone. John walked quickly over with a small tumbler of water and knelt back down beside Dean who was extremely pale and exhausted looking. John pulled Dean so that he was in a sitting position; keeping a firm hold around his shoulders, and held the glass to Dean's lips but Dean raised his hand and took the offered glass from his fathers hands and let out a painful sigh when his hand was shaking so badly that the water toppled over the top of the glass and soaked into his navy zip-up.

"Here, let me help son" John said as he covered Dean's hands' hold on the glass and helped raise it to his lips,

"Swish it around you're mouth for a minute then spit it into the toilet" John said and Dean just blinked at him; not having the effort to speak, and not trusting his stomach if he were to nod his head, the room was not exactly sitting in place at the moment.

Dean complied with his fathers' orders and John took the glass and set it down on the floor before reaching over and pulling the chain on the toilet. John sat back but did not relinquish his hold on Dean's shoulders, but rather tightened it when he felt Dean's trembling increase. John was sitting with his back against the cool tiles, one leg bent at the knee with his foot on the floor, and the other laid out straight. Dean sat with his back half against Johns raised leg and half against Johns chest, his head resting against Johns shoulder, not having any strength left in his body anymore,

"What do ya think made that happen Sport?" John asked as he looked down as Dean who had his eyes closed tight, lines of pain etched into his features. Dean's breathing was slightly labored and when John pressed the flat of his palm gently onto Dean's chest he could feel that his heart was beating a mile a minute, although it did seem to be gradually slowing back to its normal pace. Dean opened his eyes and looked up at father, shrugging slightly before answering,

"Mighta' been those pills the doc gave me" Dean whispered, his voice horse and his words slightly slurred as his body fought off the sleep that it so desperately wanted and needed. John nodded his head and rubbed his hand that was cupped against Deans' shoulder in a comforting motion as he listened to Dean's breathing even out and watched as his eyes blinked furiously in an attempt to stay awake.

John sat holding Dean for several minutes in silence and thought that he had finally succumbed to sleep when Deans' voice broke through the silence,

"Sorry" it was a mere whisper but the one word thudded loudly in John's ears, _Sorry? What has he got to be sorry for? I'm the one that should be saying sorry!_, John thought bitterly as he looked down as Dean who's eyes were now open and were looking up at John's face,

"What have you got to be sorry for Deano? You've done nothin' wrong" John said as he looked down as Dean, his tone was soft and gentle, matching the expression that marred his features,

"I'm sorry I screwed up, that I got into this whole mess, that I dragged you and Sammy into it," Dean's eyes were filled with tears but he made no effort to wipe them away as they made small tracks down his freckled cheeks, "I'm sorry that I'm scared what's gonna happen when these few weeks or this month is up…" Dean's voice cracked and he cocked back a sob. John ran his hand through Dean's messy bed-head hair and cupped it on the side of Dean's face before speaking to him in a calm and reassuring voice, tears filling the corner of his eyes as he looked at his eldest's forlorn face,

"Dean, I should be apologizing," John said as he wiped away the tears on Dean's cheek with his thumb, even though more soon fell to take there place, "I should have been there, I should have been here this whole time and I wasn't, but Dean it was a mistake and everybody makes them," Dean went to interrupt but John continued speaking, "Even _you_, but you have to know that I am gonna be here and I'm gonna fix this no matter what…" John hugged Dean closer to him before he continued speaking, "And it's alright to be scared, you don't have to be strong all of the time, I'm your father and that's my job, let me take care of you…" John felt Dean nod his head against his chest and he tightened his hold even further, '_cause God knows you need somebody to care for you for once son…_John thought dejectedly before placing a kiss that was as much a promise on Dean's forehead.

* * *

Dean sat with his head against his fathers' chest feeling the beat of his heart, letting it calm down his frayed nerves and wrecked emotions. Dean felt safe with his fathers' arms wrapped protectively around him, a promise that he would let no danger com upon his son, and Dean felt himself believing that maybe his Dad, The Great John Winchester, could help Dean after all, even if he couldn't find a cure, Dean would die a happy man knowing that in the last few weeks of his life he had his family again, sure it was dysfunctional at the best of times, but it was his, and that's all Dean ever needed.

John listened as Dean's quiet sobs burned out and his body became limp in his arms, his energy spent. John moved his head and looked down at his sons face; his eyes were mere slits of green as he gazed across the small and confined space in the bathroom, seeing something that John couldn't see, as he had unknowingly fisted the material of Johns shirt in his hand that was holding tightly onto his arm, silently asking John not to leave him- and John knew then, looking down on his dying sons face, that he wouldn't leave him again.

John spoke quietly into the air of the bathroom and couldn't stop the wave of guilt that coursed through him at the flinch of shock that passed through Dean's body,

"Sorry Ace, I was asking are ya' ready to get up now, head back to bed?" John watched as Dean blinked his eyes a few times before nodding his head slowly.

John helped raise Dean to his feet, his arm wrapped around the front of Dean's waist, and the other wrapped around his shoulders as he waited for the smaller and younger man's legs to stop shaking. John walked Dean towards the bed and laid his precious cargo down, pulling the blankets up to Dean's shoulders as Dean turned on his side, his eyes closed, facing his father. John quickly went back to the bathroom and turned off the light before walking back over to his bed and climbing under the covers; he put an arm around Dean's shoulder's and pulled him close to himself, Dean's head nuzzled into his chest, letting Dean know, even subconsciously that John was there for him, and always would be.


	3. Chapter 3

Have a little Faith

Summary: What if John had answered to Sam's message after Dean got electrocuted?

Rating: T (swearing, and maybe a little bit o' violence)

Disclaimer: The last time I checked my birth certificate didn't say Erik Kripke

I want to apologise for not updating in so long, but I was moving house and starting my GCSE's and I didn't really have time to write – that and the fact that I didn't actually have an internet connection – I still have a few tests left but I hope to start writing more frequently again….kudos :D

* * *

John woke up at the usual military time of 6.00am; he felt the sunlight from the early rising sun dance across his face and awaken his senses. John felt a weight against his side and when he glanced down he saw that Dean was still sleeping, his head resting on Johns' chest, soaking up the warmth that was slowly leaving his body over the passing days, making him feel hollow, the end more inevitable and real; he would never mention this to Sam or John, that would hurt them too much and he couldn't do that to them, so he carried the added burden on his shoulders, carrying it to his grave if he had to.

John gently and carefully moved Dean so that he was resting against the pillows and not John, not being able to ignore the small groan of disapproval at the change in position. John pulled the covers back up over his son and quickly glanced over at the other bed and smiled as he saw Sam's sleeping face; messy mop of hair and even if he couldn't see it John knew there would be a small line of drool coming from Sam's open mouth. John quickly grabbed a change of clothes before walking into the bathroom and getting into the shower, hoping that he would finish with the very important phone call which he had to make before either Sam or Dean woke up.

John exited the small bathroom and shot a quick glance at his two sleeping boys before he quietly opened the front door; leaving it slightly ajar incase Sam or Dean were to wake up so that he could hear them. John quickly started scanning through his phone for the number he was desperately searching for, taking a deep and calming breath when he watched as the desired number was highlighted on the screen before lifting the cell phone to his ear, his heart racing as he listened to the dial tone, letting out a breath when he heard the distinguishable click of the call being answered,

"Hello?" a gruff and deep voice asked over the phone,

"Jefferson, its John…I need help with something…"

* * *

Sam feel the pull of consciousness like a persistent itch of the nose or a child tugging at your arm for attention and the only way to rid the problem was to itch the scratch or listen to the child, and Sam abided as he slowly peeled his eyes open to the dark interior of their immediate living quarters. Sam brought his fingers up to his eyes and roughly scratched the sleep out of them before pushing himself up so that he was being supported by his forearms. He glanced over to the bed adjacent and saw that Dean was still sleeping_, not exactly peacefully_, but he was wrapped inside the cocoon of blankets that he had around himself, like a hug, keeping his body warm from the chill that the out-back road motel possessed. Sam watched as Dean's eyebrows knitted in discomfort and Sam was about to get up and make sure that Dean was okay when Dean let out a small moan before his green eyes opened to the world, his vision slightly blurred before he raised a weak hand and repeated the same action that Sam had done only thirty seconds previous, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before letting his eyes open to the vision of his brother looking at him, a concerned mask placed on his overly expressive face,

"Hey" Dean said his voice much weaker than he would have normally allowed but right now all of his concentration was solely focused on not letting the pain over-ride him.

"Hey, did you sleep well?" Sam asked as he swung his feet over the side of the bed and proceeded to crack his back muscles, waiting on Dean to answer him.

Dean let his mind wander back to the events of the previous night; waking up and having to rush to the bathroom before dispelling his stomach of the little contents that it owned before John came in and made sure that he was okay before falling back asleep in his father's loving embrace, feeling safe and secure for the first time in nearly five months.

"Yeah, it was alright" Dean said before pushing the thick blankets away from his body, trying to suppress the shiver that ran through his body as the cold air sweep her hands over him in a quick and startling motion. Dean then proceeded to push himself up using his arms and the headboard for leverage before resting his feet over the side of the bed on the carpeted yet cold floor.

Sam had to physically had to stop himself from getting up and helping Dean to get situated but he knew that it would just start an argument and that would just be wasted energy for both him and Dean, and he knew that Dean needed all the energy he could get as he saw the way he was taking deep breaths and wincing in pain.

Dean was about to ask where John was when the motel door opened and he entered, a small smile on his face, though John knew that the news he had just received could just be false hope, but it was hope none the less.

"Hey Dad, where were you?" Sam asked as he watched John walk over to the small table in the motels kitchen,

"I was just making a phone call," John could see that Sam was about to start asking questions and he was quick to finish his sentence, "I'll tell you about it over breakfast, but right now we need to get ready" John had already started to pack the various pages that were strewn about the room into one of the duffel bags.

Both Sam and Dean nodded at their father knowing that it was an order and they better not complain; not that that was a problem for Dean, he was very good at following his fathers orders, but Sam usually had a comment or opinion on the matter, but when he glanced over at Dean sunken and ashen face he knew that this time he would just keep his mouth shut and hope that John would tell them soon.

Dean pushed himself to his feet and haltingly to where his duffel bag was and pulled out clean clothes before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door quietly behind him.

Dean was usually a five-minute-in-and-out-shower kinda guy, but due to his latest predicament it meant that he moved much slower and painfully than normal. Dean had climbed into the shower and had basked in the glory of the heat warming up his cooling body; if he didn't know any better he would have thought that his body had already started to die, starting with the loss of body temperature, as he exited the shower and felt the air's icy tendons wrap around him again, catching his breath for a moment before he quickly dried himself and stepped into his clean clothes which consisted of a pair of black jeans; he had found them at the bottom of his bag and decided that he might as well wear them since they seemed to contain the least amount of tears and rips, along with a white long sleeved shirt covered by a dark navy t-shirt.

* * *

Half and hour later and Sam was showered and dressed in a pair of blue denim jeans and a pale blue button-up shirt which covered a white tee that he hoped would block out the biting chill in the air. All of the belongings in the motel room were packed away into their respective bags and John had them all packed away into the trunk of the beloved 67' Impala, among the shotguns and the rock salt.

John sat in the passenger seat of the Impala with Sam occupying the drivers and Dean grudgingly sitting in the back; he wanted to protest that he wanted to spend his remaining time in the front seat of his baby but he knew that the comment would just upset Sam and he didn't want to do that; he would have enough to be upset about when he was gone.

"So where is it we're headed?" Sam asked as he gunned the engine and reversed out of the parking space before driving out onto the main road.

"Just a diner somewhere, grab breakfast and then hit the road" John said casting a quick glance into the side mirror and angling his eyes so that he could see Dean, sitting staring out the window at the passing scenery.

Fifteen minutes later and the Impala came to a stop in front of a small diner; not many cars were parked outside so John assumed that it should be reasonably empty. Dean pulled the handle on the door and pushed it open before swinging his legs out of the car and using the doorframe as leverage to pull himself up, Sam went to offer help and outstretched his arm and was in touching distance of Dean's when it was roughly pulled away, causing Dean to stagger slightly before he regained his footing,

"I'm fine Sam, I can get out of the damn car of my own" he said before walking past Sam and his father towards the entrance of the diner; not that he was exactly hungry and wanted to get inside, but because he couldn't look at the flash of hurt and guilt that he knew would have flashed across Sam's face.

"Don't worry Sam, he didn't mean it, he's just…" John left the sentence hanging, not being able to find the words to describe Dean's predicament, but the understanding nod Sam gave him assured him that Sam understood and together, as a family, they would get through this dark time.

* * *

The three Winchester's seated themselves at a booth a the back, facing the door; this was habit that none of the Winchesters seemed able to break free of, always having to be on the lookout for any danger, even if they were only there to have breakfast. Dean and Sam sat at one side of the red plastic booth and John sat on the other, facing his boys, the layout resembling that of a meeting, John the boss scolding his two employees. After they had seated themselves a lovely waitress by the name of Sandra came by, a bounce in her step making the curls in her loose bun come undone.

"So boys, what can I get ya ta' drink?" she asked as she brought the top of her pencil to her rouged lips and threw her weight onto one leg, her stature casual and friendly,

"Ah, three coffees, black" John answered and watched as she scribbled down their order before placing three laminated menus on the table,

"I'll be back in a few minutes with your coffees and to take your orders" she said before bouncing away, shaking her hips provocatively at anybody who was watching, and to Sam's amazement, Dean was not included in one of the men catching Sandra's 'show', and usually his brothers womanizing and flirtatious ways would aggravate and even annoy him, the lack of such made him sad.

"So, what is it that you couldn't tell us until now?" Sam divulged into the subject that had got them here with a somewhat bitter taste to his words as he couldn't stop the anger flaring up at being left out of John's little loops of '_need-to-know-and-know-it-when-I-tell-you_',

John gave a small sigh at Sam's tone before deciding that he didn't want to get into an argument, so he let it slide before starting to tell his boys the information that he had got this morning, "This morning I phoned one of my contacts about our situation," John watched as Dean lowered his eyes in shame; as if this was somehow his fault, _I have to have a little talk with him later about this, _John thought resultantly before he continued, "He told me of a specialist up in Nebraska and I think we should at least give it a shot"

Sam's face immediately lit up at his fathers words, _this could be it, this could be Dean's chance,_ and Sam was too wrapped up in the happiness, and John also reveling in the genuine smile and glee on his youngest sons face that they both failed to notice a flash of sadness pass over Dean's; his family was together again, and his dad and Sammy were happy and not fighting and know when this didn't work out, _cause nothing ever works out for Dean Winchester_, he thought in spite, they might be pushed even farther apart.

The morbid thoughts were broken when Sandra returned to the table and colleted their orders before leaving them to enjoy their meal in peace.

* * *

The three Winchesters were once again sitting inside the safe and warm confines of the Impala, although if Dean had to admit, _which he never would,_ he was anything but warm, chills and shivers wracked his weakened frame and try as he might he couldn't stop the shivers from being visible to the other occupants of the car.

Sam sat in the front of the car beside John who was driving this leg of the journey; the atmosphere in the diner had been good, the news bringing the boost that they needed, and he had felt content as he had eaten his breakfast of bacon and eggs. He did have to admit that it disappointed him that Dean had just shoved his food around his plate and didn't even make an attempt to even have the pretence that he was eating it; and even worse, he took only meager sips out of his coffee cup before switching it for water and taking the dreaded pills that were a solid reminder of the tragedy that their life was, and when John had told him that he needed to eat something he just answered in a dejected voice, telling them that he wasn't hungry and when Sam had went to protest, he informed them that the pills made him feel sick and that's when Sam had really _looked _at Dean and noticed how he had lost a considerable amount of weight over the past week; sure he had been lean anyway but he was down to nearly eating nothing at all and it was defiantly taking its toll on his body.

They had been in the car driving for about an hour when Sam glanced over his shoulder into the back of the car when he had heard a small noise breaking the silence; no one had decided to turn on the radio, the sounds of Metillica or Blue Oyster Cult a reminder that Dean was not exactly himself. When Sam looked into the back he saw that Dean had paled considerably and had turned around in time to see Dean bring a hand up to his mouth, and that was all Sam needed to know before he quickly told his Dad to pull the car over. By the time the car had stopped Dean had managed to shuffle to the other side of the car and was in the process of opening the door when Sam jumped out of the car and did it for him and he got out of the car in time to drop to his knees on the wet grass of the highway and empty his stomach of the acid that was making him feel so dreadful.

Sam crouched down beside Dean and started to rub small, comforting circles on his back as he heaved onto the side of the road. As soon as it started it was over; Deans' stomach being empty all he was doing was dry heaving and sometimes he thought that that was ten times worse than actually being sick. Dean fell back onto his knees, his body exhausted and still trembling. His eyes were closed and he could feel that Sam was still rubbing circles along his back and he concentrated on the motion and tried to get his breathing to calm, and match the soothing motions, _in, out, in, out,_ and suddenly Sam had brought his hand up to the back of his neck and was massaging the tense muscles there.

"You okay?" Sam asked in a concerned tone; telling him the pills made him sick was one thing, actually seeing the sick was another,

"Ye…" Dean coughed before answering, "yeah…thanks" Dean said as he glanced at Sam before shifting so that he was sitting on his butt rather than kneeling; he didn't care that the water from the ground soaked into his jeans, it just took too much effort to keep his body from swaying over. During his change in position Sam had never relinquished his firm yet gentle hold on Dean; needing the contact as a reminder that Dean was still there, and in some ways Dean needed it to know that he was there too.

Dean felt a presence beside him and when he glanced up he saw that John was standing there and was holding out a bottle of opened water out to him. Dean gratefully took it and washed out his mouth before handing it back to John.

"You good to go kiddo, or do you need another minute?" John asked in a tone which made Dean feel four years old again and it made this whole situation that whole lot worse. Not trusting his voice to speak Dean nodded his head in agreement before Sam helped him get to his feet, and he didn't try to shrug him off because once he was standing he felt the world tip on his axis and the next thing he knew he was leaning against his brother, his head against his chest, Sam's strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him standing until he regained his equilibrium, his eyes sealed shut until the earth once again stood still (so to speak), and gently pushed himself away from Sam, though not aggressively but telling Sam that he was fine now, although Sam still had a firm hold of his arm and Dean was for once grateful for Sam's stubborn Mother-Hen routine and walked back to the car.

Sam cast a worried glance at his father; _they were loosing Dean faster than they thought_, but John just gave him a reassuring 'John-Winchester' smile that sometimes even rivaled Dean's and Sam somehow knew that it would be okay. Sam got into the back of the Impala this time noticing how Dean's colour was still wrong, and that the shivers he had been trying to hide were back, _and this time they brought friends_, and he watched Dean shake almost convulsantly against the seat. Sam climbed into the car after grabbing a sweat-shirt and after laying it across his lap his gently pulled Dean so that his head was lying on the sweat-shirt like a pillow; Dean off course had put up a small protest but he was too weak and let his head rest against the soft material, before closing his eyes. Sam laid a hand on Deans' shoulder and started to absently rub small circles with his palm and silently counted each inhale and exhale that his brother was taking.

John took a moment outside the car and took in a deep breath to calm his racing hear before getting into the Impala, and when he glanced into the rearview mirror, the heart breaking image made him put his foot down that bit harder on the accelerator, and wish that at the other side of the road their would be an answer to their prayers.


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: What if John had answered to Sam's message after Dean got electrocuted?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

On With the Show……

* * *

_John took a moment outside the car and took in a deep breath to calm his racing hear before getting into the Impala, and when he glanced into the rearview mirror, the heart breaking image made him put his foot down that bit harder on the accelerator, and wished that at the other side of the road their would be an answer to their prayers._

Sam sat in the back on the Impala, Dean sleeping with his head in his lap, staring out the window at the passing scenery, blurred by the speed that John was driving, no doubt breaking the limit over 30mph ago. Sam couldn't stop the crash of memories and feelings from invading his mind; the floodgate being opened up the moment that Dean had fell asleep on his lap, the way he gave up fighting Sam, and Sam couldn't help but think that maybe Dean was going to give up fighting altogether, as his body was wracked with spasms' of the unrelenting cold that had enveloped his body. Sam could feel the chill from his older brothers' body through his clothes seeping into the hand that was rubbing reassuring circles; _to comfort Dean or to comfort me_, Sam thought before releasing a sigh and glancing down at Dean's too pale face; a memory of a time past came to his mind,

* * *

_Sam was twelve years old and was waiting in the front seat of the Impala waiting for his Dad and Dean to get back. They had left about an hour ago into the deep and eerily quiet forest on the outskirts of the town that they had been calling 'Home' for the last few weeks. John had gotten information from one of his contacts that there were brutal and vicious murders taking place and that he should come and check it out. They had been researching the old forest and the suspicious deaths that had taken place and had come to the very sturdy conclusion that they were hunting a werewolf. _

_A few nights ago they had come to take care of the creature and that little trip had resulted in a broken wrist for Sammy after the damn beast had tried to make dinner out of him; luckily Dean had intervened and shot the creature in the shoulder before his little brother could be made into sushi; although little was starting to be a lie as the youngest Winchester was having his growth spurt and was already rivaling his sixteen year old brother in the height department; something that Dean was none too happy about, figuring the kid would outgrow him soon. _

_So Sam sat waiting patiently, staring blankly out of the front window of the Impala, his Dad had told him that Sam would have to stay behind and that Dean and himself would manage. Sam was sulking, silently cussing his Dad for not letting him come; when would he ever get to see a werewolf again?!? Just as Sam was about to turn the radio on he suddenly heard a rustling noise; quickly grabbing the .45 pistol that sat in the seat beside him he looked out the window, searching in all directions for the source of the noise. When nothing happened for a few minutes Sam was about to caulk it down to a fox or a rabbit when he saw the shadows of two approaching figures, and when they stepped into the light Sam's heart nearly stopped beating in his chest, the breath stolen from his lungs; John had his arm wrapped around Dean's waist and Dean's right arm was strewn across Johns shoulder, and John had a firm yet gentle hold on Dean's wrist. Sam couldn't move as he watched the approaching form of his brother and father; Dean's head was bent forward so Sam wasn't able to see his face, but what he could see was horrendous; Dean's t-shirt that had once been gray was now almost black, stained with the blood that was flowing from a slash in his stomach. Sam watched in horror as his Dean was relying on John for support with each step he took; when they were within twenty feet of the Impala Sam came from his trance with a shock and hastily opened the door to the Impala and ran to the aid of his brother._

_Sam helped John get Dean back to the car where they laid him down on the dirt road that lead to the opening of the forest, and propped him against the car so that John could assess his injuries better. The Sun was fading fast in the sky and the world around them was shrouded in the dark colours of the fast approaching nightfall. John had managed to get Dean's shredded jacket off of him and handed it to Sam before he crouched down in front of the wounded Winchester,_

"_Dean…" John asks in a comforting tone; he can never stand to see either of his boys get hurt and yet he was unable to do anything as he watched the beast slash across his eldest's stomach, not able to block out the howl of pain that Dean emitted; the only consolation being the clip that he burned into that bastards heart. _

_John watched as Dean slowly lifted his head to Johns command and let in rest against the passenger side door of the Impala; John quickly looked into his sons eyes and saw that pained expression beneath the glossy green surface,_

"_Okay son, I'm sorry but you know I need to check this" John stated as he looked into Dean's eyes before he lifted the small scissors out of the first-aid bag that he didn't even see being put down. Knowing what was going to happen Sam quickly knelt down beside Dean and put his arm around his shoulders, and held his left hand in his own, knowing that he would need to help steady Dean for the onslaught of pain that was coming. John quickly cut open Dean's t-shirt leaving his bloody and torn apart flesh exposed to the cool night air, Dean unable to hold in the gasp as the wind nipped at his skin,_

"_Okay son, on three…"John lifted up a small vile that contained holy water, knowing that they needed to purify the wound; the tear would not cause Dean to change into a werewolf as there was no saliva transferred from blood to blood which carried the catalyst of the disease, but the claws could cause an infection that could equally kill the victim, but if washed out thoroughly with holy water they should stop that happening._

_John poised the bottle over the tear and looked into Dean's eyes a final time, wordlessly apologizing for the pain that he was going to have to endure,_

"_One…" John used the element of surprise and started to pour liberal doses of the holy water onto the wound and watched as smoke began to hiss from the wound. Dean was unprepared for the pain and couldn't stop the scream of pain that ripped from his lips; Sam had to increase his hold as Dean's back arched away in pain; which was difficult with his casted wrist but he somehow managed, his grip on Sam's hand strong yet not strong enough to case any serious pain, because even through the mist and haze of his own torture Dean tried to control his actions, if only slightly, because if he hurt Sammy because he wasn't able to handle a little pain he would never forgive himself._

_After what felt like an eternity John finished pouring the holy water onto the wound, satisfied when it had stopped hissing. Dean's body took a moment to relax all of the tense muscles before his back fell back against the Impala with a small thud; the metal had been cooled down due to the drop in temperature and his body shivered at the contact. Sam looked at his brothers face and saw that his eyes were shut tight and he was breathing through his nose for a few moments as if to calm himself down before he opened them to the world, glancing around before letting them settle on their father,_

"_Did ya' get…" Dean was unable the sentence as another spasm of pain coursed through him, but John knew that he was referring to the hunt, and he raised a gentle hand to Dean's hair and ruffled it before answering,_

"_Yeah, we got it sport, ya' did good"_

_John then went about the task of applying a gauze pad to the wound and wrapping a bandage around Dean's middle to keep it secure until they could get it fixed properly. Dean's t-shirt had been ripped beyond repair and with Sam's help they managed to get Dean into one of John's flannel shirts; it was too big for him but it meant that there would be less chance of the material congealing with any over the other small cuts and scrapes that Dean's body adorned. _

_Now that John had the supplies all put back into the trunk of the Impala he went back to where Dean and Sam were both sitting, noticing the way Sam kept a tight hold of Dean as his body began to shiver fiercely due to the blood loss._

"'_Kay Dean, this is gonna hurt a bit but hang on" John soothed as he gently wrapped his arm around Dean's waist and with Sammy they both lifted Dean to his feet; the thought on Dean's mind as they transferred him to a feet was how much of a liar his Dad was because that hurt more than _a bit_ it hurt a whole damn lot; unable to stop the groan of pain he alerted his father and his brother too,_

"_Shh, it's okay, you'll be more comfortable in a minute when we get you in the car" John said as he motioned for Sam to open the back door to the Impala before Sam got in so he could help easily slide Dean across the seat._

_While this was happening Dean could feel his energy fading and his couldn't stop the way he rested his head against his fathers chest, his eyes falling shut on their own accord,_

"_No Dean, you need to stay awake Kido" John whispered into his ear, though loud enough to jolt him back to awareness. _

_John carefully placed Dean into the back of the Impala, where Sammy gently but with skill that a twelve year old should not possess pulled Dean's head and shoulders into his lap while Dean's legs were placed in an elevated position on the seats to make him more comfortable._

_Sam took this opportunity to look at his brothers face properly for the first time since he saw them coming out of the clearing; there was a gash of about two inches above his eyebrow and the beginning of a nasty looking bruise on his cheekbone, but the feature that startled Sam the most was the deathly pallor of his older brothers skin, how it looked almost translucent against his dark eyelashes that lay against his cheeks…………………_

* * *

Sam was startled from the memory by an extremely violent shiver from Dean. Sam looked down at his brothers' face and if it weren't for the missing blood, he resembled the figure that had been lying in Sam's lap ten years ago; _and that scared him_. Dean continued to shiver and Sam looked anxiously around the Impala and carefully extended his long arm over Dean's frame to grasp at a blanket that had fallen onto the floor before draping it over as much of Dean's body as he could as well as extending his arm over Dean's chest in a fashion that Dean would deem a hug and a 'Chick-Flick-Moment' but Sam didn't care anymore; he needed the physical contact with his brother as much as Dean needed the body heat that he was providing.

Unknown to Sam, Dean had woke up as the violent shiver had coursed through his weakened body; he had laid there and tried to fall back into the deep crevasses of sleep but his body was shiver beyond his control and when he was about to announce his presence he felt something being placed over him; the blanket that they always kept in the car because _'you never know when you could need the extra warmth'_, as John had always taught them. Suddenly he felt Sam's strong arm wrap across his chest, pulling him against his chest in what was undeniably a hug; but Dean could care less right now, he was cold and couldn't seem to get warm even with the aid of the blanket and Sam's body heat, so right now he didn't care if it was a 'Chick-Flick-Moment' that he would defiantly steer clear of in the 'real world', right now Dean was feeling like he was a walking block of ice, and he could already feel himself slipping away, no matter how hard Sam's hold was on him, he was going to die and nothing Sam or his father did could stop that. Dean let out a small breath of a sigh before letting his body be lulled into sleep once again.

* * *

Almost two hours later the Impala pulled into a parking space in a small motel not far from the section of road they had just turned off. John glanced into the rearview mirror so that he could see into the back of the car and saw that Sam had still not relented the hold he had on Dean for the past few hours; Dean was paler than ever, and from the glow of the motel sign he could clearly distinguish the highly defined cheekbones standing out in frightening angles with dark shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. John turned around in his seat and faced his youngest son,

"I'm gonna go in and book us a room. You should probably wake Dean up" John said, giving Sam a small reassuring smile before getting out of the car and heading in the direction of the small reception area.

Sam watched John walk off and all he could think was that they were so close now, he was unable to stop the small smile that danced on his lips before quickly reminding himself not to get his hopes up, but knowing that if he had a little faith things would work themselves out. Sam gently shook Dean's shoulder while leaning over so he could get a better view of his face,

"Dean, Dean, you need to get up now…" Sam watched as Dean's eyes fluttered before opening up fully, albeit a little slowly, before he glanced up into Sam's eyes with a small grin,

"Hey Sammy if ya' wanna cuddle all you have to do is ask" Dean joked; his voice held none of the normal jokey enthusiasm but the fact that he was trying was enough to make Sam laugh at the comment,

"Yeah Dean your so irresistible" Sam shot back as he helped to get Dean sitting upright.

John came walking back and got into the Impala before driving over to where their room was,

"I got two doubles, cause we're only gonna be here tonight anyway", both boys nodded their heads at Johns statement, knowing that he was simply informing them, not asking if it was alright, but neither brother minded much, over the years as children they had grown used to sharing a bed; sure someone would get kicked or punched but that was nothing compared to the demons that they faced on a daily basis so it wasn't really a big deal, and over the years the brothers had both learnt that sharing a bed was a whole lot better than sleeping on a cold floor or in the Impala to wake up in the morning with a stiff neck and shoulders, so all the Winchester men learnt along the way to never take what you got for granted.


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: What if John had answered to Sam's message after Dean got electrocuted?

Disclaimer: _**All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

* * *

It was half an hour since the Winchester's had booked into '_The_ _Moore's Motel'_ and they were each going about their own business. John was sitting at the small table that was situated in the dusky brown kitchenette cleaning his various weapons; Sam was sitting on the end of his and Dean's bed, reading the newspaper that the last occupant of the room had left behind, and Dean was leaning against the headboard of the bed, one arm laid across his stomach; he had taken his pills when they had gotten into the room and his stomach was protesting them fiercely; _much like it had with everything else that he had consumed since being admitted to the hospital_, making his palms sweat in agonizing anticipation of the event that he was going to come.

Suddenly Dean stood up from the bed, gaining the attention of both Sam and John. Dean's face was paler than it had been only minutes before and John was getting extremely worried and was about to ask Dean what was wrong when Dean's eyes rolled back in his skull, his knees turning to jelly as he started a downward decent to the dirty beige carpet of the motel room floor. If it hadn't been for Sam's hunter reflexes and training he wouldn't have made it to Dean on time, gently but firmly grasping Dean around the waist and guiding him towards the floor where Sam hunkered down beside him. Dean's head was resting against Sam's chest and Sam could feel Dean's breath coming out in quick pants for a few moments before calming down and returning to normal. John quickly went into the small bathroom and wet a washcloth and filled a glass with water before returning to Sam and Dean. Dean's eyes had already began to open and he let out a small moan, trying to push himself away from Sam, albeit rather unsuccessfully, Sam was not relenting of his grip on Dean, wanting to make sure he was okay before he tried to move,

"Dean its okay, take a minute…" Sam spoke in a hushed tone just as John knelt down in front of his two boys,

"Sam…" Dean was still trying in vain to push himself away from Sam;

Sam was about to start protesting again when he saw Dean's hand fly towards his mouth and in lightening speed John quickly grabbed the trash can that was by the side of the bed and had it positioned under Dean's mouth just in time before the painful retches wracked through his eldest sons frame; Sam had tightened his grip around Dean. Five minutes later the awful ordeal was over and Dean was left panting again, unable to catch his breath from the pain that the retches had caused on his already aching body. Sam carefully positioned Dean so that he was sitting with his back against the side of the bed instead of being hunched over; John used the wash cloth to clean Dean's mouth, earning a scowl from his eldest son clearly telling him that he _wasn't five and he could clean his own damn face, _yet lacking the necessary energy to take the washcloth from his father. John handed Dean the glass of water and helped him steady it as he took a few sips and spat the water back out into the trash can before John lifted it and look it into the bathroom to clean it.

"You feeling better now?" Sam asked Dean, glancing down at his brothers pale complexion,

"Yeah…just give me a few minutes…" Dean said, his voice hoarse and raw, making it painful to talk.

"Okay man whatever you need" Sam said his voice soft and understanding. A few minutes later Dean started to slowly push himself back up off the floor to sit of the side of the bed, one arm curled protectively around his stomach

Just then John walked back into the room and set the trashcan within easy access to Dean in case he needed it again. John walked over to where Sam and Dean were sitting on the bed and kneeled down in front of his two sons',

"Hey Deano, you feel any better now?" John asked in a soft comforting tone,

"Yeah, thanks," Dean said and wanting to break the moment before it got any more _'Dr. Phil'_ he spoke before either his father or his brother could, "I think I'm gonna take a shower anyways"

"Okay, I'll go grab us somethin' to eat from the dinner in town" John said as he pushed himself into a standing position again, watching as Dean grabbed a pair of fresh boxers, sweats and a tee from his duffel before walking into the bathroom and locking the door.

* * *

Once Dean was inside the bathroom with the door locked he dropped his clothes down onto the closed lid of the toilet before leaning his hands against either side of the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His face was extremely pale; freckles adorning themselves across his nose and cheeks giving him a youthful appearance, although he felt anything but. He had lost a considerable amount of weight over the past few weeks, due to lacking an appetite and the constant nausea caused by the pills that the doctor at the hospital had prescribed him. Dean made a sound of disgust before averting his eyes and walking over to the shower and turning on the water; he left it at a cooler temperature than he normally would, hoping that it would help to wake him up, get his mind free of the haze and drowsy cloud that seemed to be following him around. Dean quickly stripped of his clothes before climbing into the frigid water, shivering as the cold water hit his skin, the powerful spray hitting with brutal force against the bruises that ran up his left side; when the electricity had soured through his body, attacking nerve endings and causing a pain that Dean never thought possible, his body convulsed before dropping to the ground causing the damaged blood vessels up his left side to burst against the pressure, causing purple bruises to form almost automatically.

* * *

About fifteen minutes after John had left the motel room to grab the boys and himself dinner he was back carrying a plastic bag with three cartons containing their meal for the night. John walked over and set the bag on top of the table while Sam went into the kitchen and grabbed three sodas out of the small mini-fridge that sat in the corner of the small kitchenette.

* * *

About twenty-five minutes later Dean exited the bathroom; he was dressed in his black sweat bottoms but was carrying his t-shirt in his hands. This was the first time that Sam or John had seen Dean with the cover of a shirt and to say that the pair were shocked by his appearance would have been an understatement; _not that they let it show on their faces_, Dean's ribcage showed prominently through his skin, the hollows between the individual bones hollow and painful looking but nothing in comparison to the multicolour bruise that ran down his side, his hip bones jutted out as his sweats couldn't stay up, there not being enough to fill them,

_God he must be in so much pain…_Sam thought, willing the tears to stay from his eyes no matter how much he wanted to he knew that blubbering like a baby know would do no good to anyone.

"Grabbed the dirty shirt from yesterday…" Dean said as a way as an explanation before turning around in his bag and digging around inside for a clean one, finally pulling out a white short sleeved t-shirt. When Dean had turned around both his father and his brother could see the pebbled bones of his spine before he pulled the shirt over his head, the skin stretching over the bones making him look even more like a skeleton.

Dean sat down on the edge of his bed facing over to where his Sam and John where sat at the small table eating out of small plastic containers from the dinner down the street; as the smell of the cheese burgers wafted over to Dean he felt his stomach do a small flip in protest, having to take calming breaths to get the nausea under control before he pulled himself back onto his feet and heading in the direction of the small kitchen thinking that a glass of water would be good right now as he mouth seemed suddenly dry. Dean filled a glass that had been sitting on the drainer beside the sink up halfway with the life-sustaining liquid, drinking it slowly before placing the glass back in the sink. Suddenly Dean was assaulted with a wave of dizziness, making him clamp his eyes shut to stop the room from spinning.

John and Sam watched anxiously from their places at the table as Dean grabbed hold of the sink and his eyes slammed shut as his body began to sway suddenly. John was out of his seat and over by Dean faster than Sam had ever seen him move in his whole life. John grabbed a firm hold around Dean's waist with his right arm and an equally firm grip of Dean's left forearm with his left hand,

"Your okay son, take deep breaths…that's it, you're okay" John could feel the tremors that had shook Dean's frame when he first came over begin to subside, as did Dean's grip on the sink. Dean slowly opened his eyes and when he was sure that the room had decided to stand still he opened them the whole way, glancing to his left side to see his fathers' concerned face,

"I'm okay now, just got a little dizzy" Dean said as John released his grip on Dean although he left his hand hovering by his left elbow in the case that he faltered and fell over.

Sam stood hovering and watched as Dean walked back over to his side of the bed and sank heavily into the mattress,

"I think you need to eat something Dean; you haven't had anything in…" Sam couldn't actually remember the last time that Dean had ate a meal and it had stayed down for more than an hour, and knowing that this was defiantly due to him not eating,

"I'm okay Sammy, I just need to sleep, I'll be fine" Dean said in the best big-brother-is-gonna-make-it-alright voice that he could muster, feeling that he had to make everything okay for Sam. Sam glanced over at John and they shared a quick glance of hopelessness as they watched Dean climb beneath the covers of the bed and fall asleep before he head even hit the pillow.

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter, but I really wanted to post this chapter and I didn't want to leave ya'll hangin' too long :D 


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: What if John had answered to Sam's message after Dean got electrocuted?

Disclaimer: _**All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

* * *

Sam had been asleep for a few hours when he was woken up and his sleep-fogged mind enabled him to locate the source of his awakening for a few moments until a movement beside him brought his attention to the other occupant in the bed. Dean was shivering, almost violently, the bed sheets clutched in his hand as he tried to warm he body in a fruitless attempt. Sam quickly yet quietly removed the sheets from around himself and got out from the bed before walking to the end of the bed where he had threw his duffel yesterday and proceeded to pull his black zip-up from inside before making his way around to Dean's side of the bed,

"Dean, come on you need to wake up for a minute" Sam whispered into the darkened room as he gently shook Dean's shoulder, watching as his eyes slowly opened to reveal two slits of glassy green,

"Sammy?" Dean's voice came out a slurred and cracked whisper as his mind tried to comprehend as to why Sam had woken him up in the middle of the night,

"Hey man, sorry, but I need you to sit up for a minute and then you can go back to sleep, okay?" Sam said as he carefully eased Dean into an upright position; he watched as Dean gave a violent shudder when the blanket fell from his shoulders and pooled in his lap. Sam carefully pulled each of Dean's arms into the jacket; Dean tried to help but it seemed that his limbs were still asleep and did not want to co-operate. When Sam had the jacket on and zipped up Dean carefully lay back down with his head resting against the pillows as if he had never moved, asleep before Sam had made it back to the other side and slide back into the covers, glad that Dean's frame, although still shivering, had decreased and he seemed more comfortable.

Sam settled into a dreamless sleep both anxiously and excited about the next day, the day that could undeniably seal Dean's fate.

* * *

The next morning was a mixture of nervous tension and excitement at what they would find at this specialist. John had woken early and had showered and packed his duffel and the weapons before he woke up Sam and Dean. After both the boys had gotten showered and dressed; Dean now wearing the jacket that Sam had given him last night under his black jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans that hung miserably on his too thin frame, before they packed away their own meager belongings and checked out of the motel at around 8:30am.

All three Winchester men had decided that they would skip breakfast so that they could get a head start on today; John had told them that the drive to the specialist would take a few hours as it was situated a little outside of town, in the countryside. Secretly Sam was glad that they had decided to skip breakfast; his stomach was fluttering in nervous anticipation of what could happen today…but he also reminded himself not to get his hopes up too high because they could also be knocked down. Dean was also glad; his appetite had vanished completely and his famished body was physical proof to the effects that it was having on him but he silently hoped that the mighty John Winchester would prevail once again and would find a way to sort this mess out; he was sick of the pains and aches that tormented his body, the pills that would take a small bit of the ache away for a while at the price of leaving him feeling more nauseous than before he took them, and the pitying looks that he would get from strangers, but mostly he hated the pitying looks and helpful 'kiddies gloves' that Sammy and his Dad had resorted to using with him.

John climbed into the driver's seat of the Impala and gunned the engine. Sam sat in the front worrying his nails before John pulled his hand away from his mouth and gave a look that clearly told him to '_get a grip'_ before taking a deep breath to calm himself down. Dean sat in the back of the Impala resting against the right side door, his head resting against the cool glass, feeling the vibrations from the rough ground reverberate throughout his body, letting it lull him into an almost hypnotic state of mind making the trip seem like it had taken only two minutes instead of the actual two and a half hours.

"We're here" John announced before opening the car door and climbing out into the frigid and rain streaked air of the Nebraskan countryside. Sam quickly followed suit and watched for a moment as Dean oriented his sleepy brain to get out of the car before going to his aid and taking hold of one of his arms which Dean quickly pushed away as he glanced around the area.

There were many people flocking into a huge tent; many had crutches and wheelchairs, many being held up by the help of a family member or friend as they walked towards a way of help. Dean looked disgustedly at the sign above the tent;

'_Welcomes All Faiths – The Believers Revival'_

– _**His Dad brought him to a fucking faith healer!**_

Dean couldn't believe it, and was unable to stop the comment that flew from his lips,

"Lying bastard" and upon seeing the stern look on Johns face realized that he had heard him, and from the shocked and awed expression that Sam wore he guessed he heard him too.

"Don't cuss at me boy" John said as he walked around the car to where Sam and Dean where standing,

"Sorry Sir" Dean said, glancing over at the tent again,

"And anyway I believe I said a specialist" John said in a slightly humorous tone, showing his boys that they still couldn't get one over on their old man.

The three Winchesters began their walk towards the tent passing by several people protesting against the 'Reverend' and several people defending him and his work. There was a man dressed in quite formal attire handing leaflets to passers by, telling them that the work of the Reverend was a lie before he was escorted away by two police officers. John, Sam and Dean walked into the welcoming warmth of the tent; it was packed full of people, all seeking answers and guidance, hoping that their prayers would be answered today. Dean scanned a cautious glance around the tent; habit etched into his fiber throughout his lifetime. As his eyes fell upon a security camera at the entrance of the tent he nudged Sam's arm to gain his attention,

"Yeah, peace and love all around here" he muttered in a sarcastic tone, as they followed behind John. Dean spotted three empty seats at the back of the tent and attempted to sit down when Sam grabbed him around his arm,

"What, sit here" he said as Sam pulled him from his semi-sitting position so that he was standing again and once more following John,

"No, we're sitting at the front" Sam said, removing his hand as Dean shoved his hand away, although he kept his hand over Dean's back in the case that his step should falter.

John walked up to another set of free seats about four rows back from the front at the right hand side of the tent. John quickly took his seat, followed by Sam who tried to help Dean into his seat but he got his hands brushed off and a grunt as a 'Thank You'.

A few moments later the tent was full of people waiting anxiously as a short, heavyset man in his early fifties, who was wearing a white shirt and tie walked onto the small stage at the front accompanied by a woman of the same age who was slightly smaller and had very light blonde hair that was tied up. The thing that caught Dean's attention though was that the man was wearing dark sunglasses; he was obviously blind.

The Reverend walked over and stood behind his podium where he preached about how every morning his wife would read him the paper and nothing seemed good nowadays, and how although he was struck blind he was given the opportunity to see into people's hearts and to share his gift- and naturally Dean could not stop the retort that flew from his mouth on his exhale of air,

"Yeah, and into their wallets…" he muttered quietly to Sam, although not quietly enough,

"What was that young man?" Reverend Roy said with a hint of humor in his words,

"Sorry" Dean said clear enough to be heard, chastised at being caught,

"That okay son; gotta be careful what ya say around the blind – we got real sharp ears" Roy said with a small laugh, "What's your name son?" Roy asked after a moments pause,

Dean cleared his throat before answering, "Uh, Dean" he replied, somehow feeling that it would be wrong to lie to a Reverend – even if he thought he wasn't a real one,

"Well Dean, why don't you come up here?" Roy asked and people in the tent started to clap; Sam grabbed Dean's arm and gave it an excited squeeze,

"I…" Dean started shaking his head, "you should pick somebody else"

"I didn't pick you Dean, the Lord did" Roy said, still waiting for the young man to join him on the small stage. People were still clapping and Dean glanced at Sam and John, saw the hope and want radiating in their eyes and faces – he knew that he could at least go up and see what happened. Dean stiffly pushed himself out of his seat and walked up to the stage, Sue-Anne helping him before going and standing off to the side.

Dean stood beside the Roy and spoke quietly to the older man,

"Ya' know, I'm not exactly a believer" Dean said as he glanced at Roy and say a small smile on the man's lips,

"That's okay…that's okay" he said before speaking to the crowd once again, "Pray with me", Dean watched as the room lifted their arms in the air and joined hands with each other, some people praying quietly into their chests, as others looked on, waiting to see a miracle take place. Roy extended his arms into the air, his left hand raised towards the heavens as his right hand was placed on Dean's shoulder before sliding up to the side of his head where he kept the contact,

"Alright, alright now" Roy said and Dean was starting to wonder what was supposed to happen when suddenly all of his thoughts where banished by a thickening haze, his body being filled with an overwhelming coldness- ten times worse than what he had been feeling the previous weeks. Dean swallowed thickly against the lump in his throat as he felt an oppressing weakness take over his mind, body and soul alike. He felt as his legs refused to hold him any longer and he sank slowly to his knees – Roy's' hand still keeping contact as his head lolled backwards, his body finally succumbing to the fight as his body pitched forwards before finally falling back towards the ground, his arm flying out in a last ditch attempt to keep his body upright before it connected with the solid ground, his ears not hearing the sound of his name being called, or the increased intensity of the cheers as his world turned black.

Sam watched as his brother fell to the ground; his heart leap to his throat and his lungs ceased to bring any air into his body. He jumped out of his seat and ran to the front, oblivious to the crowd around him as he ran and grabbed Dean's limp body, shaking at him hoping to get a reaction; letting out the breath he had been holding as Dean gasped in for air.

Dean eyes shot open as he breathed as if for the first time; his lungs burning as they were filled with the precious air. His eyes blinked owlishly as he looked around himself; he cast a glance at the Revered and was shocked when he saw a figure standing behind him; an old man wearing a suit, his skin wrinkled and his skin a deathly pallor; Dean wondered who the man was when he turned around and suddenly vanished into thin air.

Dean could hear a voice getting louder…it was calling his name…it took him a few moments of disorientation to realize that it was Sam, and that his hand was holding a fistful of Dean's jacket and shaking him slightly,

"Dean? Dean?" Sam's voice was filled with worry and concern, with a slight undercurrent of hopeful apprehension,

"Yeah; Sam?" Dean's voice was a strained whisper and he had to cough a few times to clear his throat.

"Are you okay? Do you feel any different?" Sam asked, itching to know if this trip was worth all the heartache. Dean started to push himself up but had to stop when he had only managed to get to a sitting position because the world started to spin slightly, before speaking,

"I'm fine Sam, just a little dizzy," Dean answered in a slightly stronger voice before pushing himself the rest of the way to his feet now that the world decided to stop playing on the merry-go-round and was once again still, "I would appreciate it if we could get the hell outta here, I'm freezing my ass off here" Dean said as he got off of the small stage and stood beside Sam and his father. Most of the people in the tent were leaving and Dean noticed that Roy had left also; _only one __**'healing'**__ a day,_ Dean thought distractedly.

"Are you sure you're okay son?" John asked in a tone of voice telling Dean that he better not shit him and give him the truth – _well a half truth anyway._

"Yeah, just a little weak is all; I just need to lie down for a while" Dean said, hoping that Sam would stop shooting him cornered and worried glances.

"We're gonna get you checked out at the hospital and then head back to the hotel, okay boys" John told them in his best John Winchester Military Voice, as if he was addressing them about the latest hunt and not the health of one of his sons.

* * *

The ride to the hospital had been made in the same atmosphere as when they traveled to the Revered, although a little less fear had been replaced by apprehension. Dean now sat in one of the exam rooms of yet another hospital; _one too many in his life if you asked him,_ waiting for the doctor to come back with the results of his tests. He sat on a bed in the centre of the room with his legs hanging off of the side of the bed, Sam stood at the end of the bed, casting glances at Dean every so often – Dean paying no attention; he felt better but he was still tired and a different kind of cold had invaded his body – it was wrong and sat like a boulder at the pit of his stomach. Finally John stood close to the window, his arms crossed across his chest and his poker face firmly in place. Finally a female doctor of medium height with dark brown hair in her late thirties came into the room and walked over to where Dean was sitting, making him sit up straighter as he listened as she began to speak,

"I received the results of your tests Mr. Jones and am pleased to say that they all came back normal; not that there is any reason for a young man to be having heart trouble, but it happens" She said as she signed 'Mr. Thomas Jones' chart. John who had came to stand closer to the bed spoke in a curious tone,

"What do you mean, doc?" John watched the doctors face carefully as she spoke,

"Well, not too long ago a young man, about your age came in, suffered an M.I" John nodded his head to the doctor before she left the room.

* * *

A few hours later the Winchester's were back in their motel room; they had just finished their dinner of burgers and fries – this time Dean was able to nibble at a few fries without feeling nauseated – his appetite was small but after a few weeks of eating virtually nothing and having a second showing of what he could force into his stomach it was a feast for his stomach and left him feeling satisfied and sleepy; gratefully not the fatigued tiredness that had overwhelmed him but a warm and safe feeling of tiredness that had his eyes sliding closed as soon as his head hit the pillow.

John stood at the room to the motel door with his duffel on his back looking across the room to where his two sons lay; Sam was laid on his back with his hands resting on his chest- he was always a conservative sleeper, even as a child. Dean was the opposite as he was lying on his side with his arm hanging off of the bed and the other underneath the pillow, a contented look on each of their faces. John took a few more moments to engrave the picture of his two sons looking so innocent before he quietly opened the door and walked into the crisp night air.

* * *

The next morning Sam woke up to see his brother sitting on the edge of the other, unoccupied bed in the room, looking down at something that was in his hands.

"Hey" Sam said to announce his presence, as he pushed himself into a sitting position with his feet of the floor,

"Hey Sammy" Dean said as he glanced over at Sam before silently passing the piece of paper that he had been looking at; an unreadable expression on his face. Sam accepted the note and read it carefully. It was a note. From John. He had left_, once again, Sam thought bitterly_.

_Boys,_

_Take some time to rest up, and I'll message you in a few days._

_Take care, Deano, Sammy._

_Dad_

Sam glanced over at Dean, who had been staring at a particularly interesting spot on the floor,

"Are you okay?" Sam asked in a quiet voice, cautious of what Dean's reaction might be.

Dean glanced from the spot and looked at Sam with a small smile; not the mega-watt Dean Winchester Demon Hunter smile, but the smile that Dean only saved for the people he loved and wanted to keep safe no matter what,

"Yeah Sammy, I'm fine" Dean said, and for once, he was.

* * *

I decided that I should end the story there and just have it play out like the rest of the episode actually did cause I really like it.

I am working on a new story now but I want to have a few chapters posted before I put it up, so keep look out.

**DeanBeanWinchester**

**Xx**


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